Beast of America
by rancois
Summary: It's the height of his Imperialist Age and America continues to have chilling nightmares of a floating city, himself as a horrid dictator, and the fall of his friends. Will these dreams change America's history forever? Empire!America
1. Chapter 1

_America sat on a bench, the shade of the trees behind him keeping his face from the sun. The wind blew lazily through his bangs, the rest of his hair covered by a stout black top-hat that matched the rest of his suit. He was suppost to be meeting someone here, but the latter had yet to show. America would not let this setback upset him as he preoccupied himself by watching the rotor-blimps float by on the skyway, the buildings behind them bobbing slightly in the breeze as they sat on their platforms. After the blimps had gone he turned his focus to his left, taking note as a haberdashery was pulled up to the edge of the plaza and locked down so that it wouldn't float away in the wind. '_Amazing how even the largest of buildings can fly away like a stray balloon up here._' he thought to himself._

_"_Hello old chap." _A voice called to the very stoic America._

_Without turning his head from the haberdashery he replied to England, "_Hello to you to. I assume your presence here means that China has been dealt with?_"_

_England became fidgety and nervous. "_Um.. well... not entirely._"_

_America's eyes grew dark as his face twisted into a display of anger and disappointment. He stood from his bench and ran at England, hitting him in the face with a gloved hand when he grew close enough. England fell to the ground and cupped the hand-shaped mark on his cheek. America moved to stand over him._

_"_**What do you mean by not entirely?!**_" he roared to the crumpled figure lying in the grass._

_Without moving, England quietly replied, "_He held out through our attack, we didn't have enough force to bring him down... We did manage to wound him during the battle though, he lost an eye..._"_

_Still furious, America bellowed, "_You had an entire fleet of war blimps and Jingoists and you only managed to partially blind him?!_"_

_Sheepishly, Britain replied, "_Yes sir... I'm sorry we couldn't do more."

_"_There won't be anymore 'we's' for you you piece of shit!_" America growled as he kicked the man in the side, "_Now get the fuck up and back to your quarters you failure!"

_England collected himself and stood to walk away, wiping tears away once he was at least hunched over. "_Y-yes sir..._" he said quietly as he sauntered away. America narrowed his eyes at England's back. "_And if you cry in front of me again, China won't be the only person missing an eye..._"_

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America shot up in his bed, the moon illuminating his sweaty, troubled face. Putting his head in his hand, he rubbed his eyes. '_Not again.._' he said to himself. This night marked the eleventh time that he had been torn awake by that reoccurring nightmare. '_I would never hit Iggy! Never, never!_' He rose from his bed and walked over to his wash-basin. After splashing the cold water into his face, he looked up into his gilded mirror. He looked better than he felt, the only difference in his face being the small bags that has formed under his eyes, the many restless nights being the cause. He sighed and reached for his pocket watch. Flipping it open, he read 2:00 a.m.

He didn't bother to change out of his silken pyjamas before sleepily walking out of his room and to the stairwell; the kitchen being his priority seeing as his slumber had been ruined by the repeated nightmare. He stopped on the landing to hear a noise coming from his destination. He didn't have to think twice as to who it was.

"Lithuania! How many times have I told you to stop doing your chores this early!" he called down to the kitchen in a friendly and joking tone. Lithuania only fumbled his words as he tried to respond, to scared by America's sudden outburst to form real words. America took in the mans confusion and laughed, the horrid dream no longer on his mind as he descended the stairs to help his friend with breakfast.

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New story new adventure! Nothing really important to say except that I haven't forgotten the Epilogue series for F.O.I.D.H.P.O.T.B! That'll get finished soon.

Please review! _Au revoir!_


	2. Chapter 2

I love writing like this, making characters go O.O.C to the extreme... I got the inspiration for this story from the song "Beast of America" by Nico Vega, acoustic version. I don't exactly know how long I want to make it, but I have planned out a long, symbol filled plot line so... maybe it'll be a long story. Also, there might be some references to Bioshock Infinite, but not enough to make it a crossover. (I hope!)

* * *

_The hall was dim, the only source of light being the full moon that filtered through the tall windows. America strode down this hall now, his cane making tapping noises on the tiled floor in time with the sound of his shoes. The door at the end of the hall, tall and ornately baroque in design, was his objective. He had just come from the foundry, which was being ramped up to make more guns to use against China, and now he was to turn in for the night. He was halfway down the hall when the only other door opened further down the room and his brother stepped out._

_America greeted his right-hand-man warmly. "_Canada! How goes our relations with the land?_" He said with a smile, Canada being the only one he genuinely trusted, "_How goes our talks with the Scandinavian countries? I assume they've started seeing the value of joining our side?_" _

_Canada gave him a positive smile. "_Yes sir. Most of them have come around, we only need Iceland now._" America beamed, the moonlight catching in his white teeth._

_"_Excellent! You said we just need Iceland, yes?_"_

_"_Yes sir._"_

_"_Well what do you think we should do?_" America asked him. '_Don't fuck up your answer.', _repeating in his mind._

_Canada stiffened. '_H-he want's my opinion?! Maple! What do I tell him?!_' Canada thought of things that America would want to hear, the latter standing there with an impatient look on his face, his shoe tapping on the tile. Finally, Canada came up with an answer. "_W-well... Iceland belongs to Denmark. What if we just ask him to-"

"Beat some sense into the brat?"_America's eyes lit up as he finished his brother's statement, "_Excellent idea! Get to Denmark at once and use your manipulative personality to get him to make Iceland see our way. I didn't give you that elixir so that you could squander it's power."

_(The elixir, as they were called, were special mixtures developed by America's top scientists, mixtures that could change an organisms physical makeup.. After realizing their potential, ranging from telepathic abilities to enhanced combat skills, America banned their use in the public and instead used them to manipulate and control his fellow nations.)_

_Canada perked up and saluted his brother. "_Yes sir!_" he said before walking back through the side door. America watched as he disappeared through the corridor beyond for a moment before striding up to the entrance to his private chambers. He flung open the doors and entered the room. Walking to his chifferobe, he began to lightly spin out a song he had heard the day before.__  
_

_"There are loved ones in the glory,_

_Whose dear forms you often miss;_

_When you close your earthly story,_

_Will you join them in their bliss?"_

_He stopped there once he got his nightwear on. Slipping into bed, he couldn't think about anything other than how easy it would be to take out China once he had the right manpower, the recent conversion of the Nordics only brought him closer to his goal. He stared up at the roof of his bed, eyes narrowed in thought. "_Now if only I could get Russia on my side... Maybe if I convince the Romanov's, they'll make their country join my fight._" America put on a demented smile. "_And just think of the pain China will feel once he see's his friend standing by me with the others, ready to enact revenge for what that bastard did to me during the boxer rebellion!_" America thought of the long scar running down his left leg, still very noticeable even though it had been carved over 12 years ago. After pushing the scar to the far corner of his mind, America was finally able to fall asleep, content that his plan was on the straightaway to success._

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He was able to wake up peacefully this time, but the peace was short lived. He was still having dreams, dreams about things that never existed. "I can't tell anyone about this," he told himself as he sat in bed, "they'd lock me in a mental institution without a second thought!" He reached for his glasses on the nightstand. He put them on, but remained seated in his bed. "Boxer Rebellion! What's that suppost to be? A shipping war?" he asked himself jokingly, laughing softly at his "cleverness".

His talk was cut short by a swift knock at his door, followed by the voice of Lithuania. "Mr. America, you didn't come down yet. I assume you would like to take your breakfast in your room then?"

America called out, "Yes please!" hoping that it would give him some more privacy, but Lithuania surprised him by immediately entering his room with a silver serving tray. On the tray: a glass of orange juice, a cup of black coffee, Belgian waffles, and two eggs. America couldn't help but smile at his friend's dedication to his job.

"Well that was rather quick." he told the man as the tray was set over his legs, the supports keeping the platter from touching him.

Lithuania smiled as he said, "I figured you'd wan't to eat up here, seeing as you're usually down in the kitchen by six." America was taken aback by Lithuania's spot on prediction. He found himself staring at the man as he thought, "_I wonder how the me in my dreams treats him?_" Lithuania noticed the stare and asked America in a concerned tone, "Is everything all right?"

America snapped out of his thoughts and looked at his food. "Y-yeah... Everything's okay."

Lithuania gave him a doubtful look, but brushed the concern aside not wanting to trouble the American any longer. He softened and reassured, "Okay Mr. America. If you need anything just holler for me, I'll be tidying up this floor for a while." America smiled at him as the latter walked out and shut the door behind him.

"_Better finish this quick! I've got a meeting with Britain in an hour!_'

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*mumbles angrily about being a hypocrite* Disclaimer- I don't own "Will the Circle be Unbroken"

Please review! _Au revoir!_


	3. Chapter 3

(/*O*/) _l_l_ I am soooooooooooooooooooooo pissed at Amazon right now! I ordered one simple little thing today and it won't be here till the end of the fucking month! It better be shipping from some in-the-middle-of-fucking-nowhere country or that's complete bull!

*Calming sigh* Here's America's meeting with Britain.

* * *

"I have to say America, just because you won your little scuffle doesn't mean you have to go and strip him of his most important colonies."

"Calm down Britain! Besides, you've had Gibraltar since 1713 **and **Honduras since 1740; so don't try and guilt trip me into giving Spain's colonies back when you've got his things too!"

"I just think it's ru-"

America had been sitting, but then he swiftly stood and planted both hands on the table and stared into Britain's eyes. "I don't care if it's rude! My way of doing things is much better, my niche says so."

Britain pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Your exceptionalism can get annoying at times you know."

America laughed off the insult and flapped a confident hand at the Brit opposite of him as he sat back in his chair. After Britain gave him an insulted look, America said, "You're just jealous that I have the Philippines now, I know how much you've been eyeing those islands."

Britain scoffed, "I have all the land I need, the Philippines"

"I think you mean the American Philippines."

Britain narrowed his eyes and gave a sour look, "Right, the American Philippines are a minuscule area anyway."

America shot him an 'I know something you don't' grin, then retorted, "Actually... Those islands are of great importance, at least now that I have them"

His tone dripping with sarcasm, Britain asked, "Really? Like what?"

Lacing his fingers together, America said, "They'll be my way into China, and after I take Chinese territory I can go for Japan."

Britain sighed. '_Where did he go wrong? Sometimes this imperialist attitude of his can border on the__ insane_...'

"Just think about it," America continued, "Japan just came out of isolation not five years ago. His government is too busy ripping itself apart to care about foreign threats, it would be so easy to go in and take him for myself!"

Britain's eyes shimmered with disappointment at America's idea, but his tone remained agitated, "I-it's just not right America."

"Sure it is! As the hero, it's my duty to teach other, less civilized countries how to properly live! It's already working in Hawaii, even if that's not really a country anymore."

"What your people did to that kingdom was atrocious, overthrowing a proud monarchy just to evade a shipping tax."

"You-"

"And on top of that, you've been stripping them of their dignified Polynesian culture!" America began to grow aggravated with the way Britain was talking. '_How dare he question my ways, the man who stole me from my native land and westernized me! Does he realize how much of a hypocrite he's being right_ _now?!_'

"Actions like that are immoral and wrong."

America mumbled to himself, "This coming from one of the most immoral nations on the planet..."

Britain heard him and asked angrily, "What?"

America locked eyes with him and growled, "I said you're immoral!"

"How dare you!"

America slammed a hand on the table. "**No! **How dare **YOU!** You who sit here and call me a bad person! You who stole countless kingdoms and continents! **You, the greediest hypocritical bastard on the planet!**" he screamed at Britain. The latter sat there and absorbed all the anger his younger brother sent his way. His eyes began to sting, but he held his dignity and refused to tear up, even though it was all he wanted to do at the moment. America turned his swivel chair away from him and stared at the wall with his arms crossed. Britain stared at the back of the chair blankly. Eventually, he excused himself.

"I'll be going now."

"Fine." America replied tartly.

The Brit stood from his spot and headed for the door, his eyes not once dropping on the fuming nation as he walked passed him and to the exit.

"Just know this, to much power is always a bad thing. Think about that before you go and try to assimilate your new friend." He said before pushing the door open.

"Fine." America replied, his voice still tainted with anger.

Britain left, his footsteps making clacking noises on the hardwood as he went down the hall.

xxxXXXxxx(Super happy fun time USA go epic go time skip~!)xxxXXXxxx

America was in his parlor now, the curtains closed and the lights on. He had a cup of coffee with him, but he had yet to touch it and it had grown cold. He stared into it's silky black surface. The room was silent, spare the ticking of his J.H. Miller grandfather clock. He had been in this state for hours, and Lithuania had become worried. Usually he would come home, hang his coat and hat, then head straight to the kitchen where Lithuania would be waiting with a fresh pot of coffee. Today though, he had come home, dropped his things in the hall and headed straight for his chair. Lithuania came in with the coffee, a curious mask on his face. He had asked his friend what was wrong, but only got a shallow "_I'm fine..._" in return. Lithuania could tell that America was upset, but chose to leave him be as to not upset him any further by prodding him for answers.

America looked up from the coffee and over to the grandfather clock opposite him.

"10:00..." he read to himself, "Better get to bed now..."

He set the coffee on the side table and stood up. Heading to the stairs, he thought to himself, "_Hope I don't have another one of those weird dreams again._"

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For those of you wondering, this story takes place in 1889, The Boxer Rebellion of China never existed, and America has gone power hungry. I don't normally alter history to such a degree that I wipe out a major moment in Chinese history but... for this story I had to make an exception.

Also, J.H. Miller is a clock manufacturer from England, see? I have Britain all over this chapter.

Please review! _Au revoir!_


	4. Chapter 4

*Stares intently at wall* Shhh! I'm watching the paint dry, this is the best part!

* * *

_"Will the circle be unbroken_

_By and by, by and by?_

_Is a better home awaiting_

_In the sky, in the sky?"_

_The song played through America's head as he sat slumped at his desk._

_"In the joyous days of childhood,_

_Often they told of wondrous love,_

_Pointed to the dying Savior_

_Now they dwell with Him above..."_

_America straightened in his chair and stretched his arms out at his sides. Yawning, he shook the song from his mind and tried to focus on the papers in front of him. They weren't of particular importance to him, but Canada had come back from his recruitment mission in Denmark early saying that Denmark's government needed more information on America's alliance before bringing their colonies into the group. Their desire for information annoyed him, why couldn't they just see his perfection and join him. All the other Nordics had, why was it Denmark, of all people, that was unsure? Well, though he many look like an idiot, that man can be intelligent and cunning when he wants to. America scribbled his signature at the bottom of the page in front of him then put his pen down.__He ran a hand through his hair lazily._

_Why was it so hard for these idiots to see why he was perfect? All he really wanted to do was help them... by force._

_America stood and walked to the speaking telegraph*. After turning the crank for a minute then dialing the number, he held the receiver to his ear and waited for a voice to come over the static._

_"Hello?"_

_America assumed his commanding voice and spoke, "_I am calling to inquire about our current trajectory._"_

_The voice on the other end let out a confused tic and grew distant for a moment, then returned in a more confident demeanor. "_Sir, we are currently traveling due east over the Atlantic Ocean at 17.37 knots.*_"_

_America calculated where his city would be in Europe if he let the course remain unchanged. After a second of processing, he estimated that they would be over southern Italy, a country not in his alliance._

_"Thank you," he told the man on the phone, then hung up without waiting for a reply. Eyes slightly narrowed in thought, he returned to his desk chair and propped his head in one of his hands. The Italies just reunified only 29 years ago, and still had much to learn about cooperation when it comes to foreign affairs... But they were also both very stupid. America thought it would be so easy to persuade them to joining his union, just promise them land and power, that would get them to join. Maybe give them Britain, let him see what it's like to be a territory. America turned his head to the left and stared out the window at the bobbing domes and roofs of his city. This was a normal thing to him, a way to help channel his thoughts into solid ideas. America continued this for another half an hour as he formulated a plan to convert Italy. He had decided to go with a classic bribe of money and land, specifically his brother's Prince Edward Island province. Of corse he would have to use some positive descriptions to make that rocky waste of space seem desirable..._

_He let out a tired sigh and rose from his seat. Heading to his bedroom, the pestering song returned to the front of his mind, continuing where it had left off hours ago._

_"You remember songs of heaven_

_Which you sang with childish voice,_

_Do you love the hymns they taught you,_

_Or are songs of earth your choice?"_

_He angrily shook the song out of his head yet again as he donned his nightwear. "_I've got to forget that song!_" he said to himself quietly. He climbed into bed and let the soft covers envelop him. The warmth put him at ease, and he let the faint bobbing of his home's platform rock him to sleep._

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Sorry there's no real world perspective in this chapter. I wanted to get this out **now **and had to balance my priorities since it's finals week. But don't worry, the next chapter will have both America's in it. (I think..)

*Speaking Telegraph- old name for the telephone.

*17.37 knots- 20 mph.

Please review! _Au revoir!_


	5. Chapter 5

_Tellement désolé _for ignoring this for almost two months... I had other things going on, like vacationing in the mountains north of Phoenix practically every weekend; plus, I had a MASSIVE case of writers block for this story. I'm not like other writers where I can just weave a plot as I write; I need time to think a new chapter over before I put it down in written words. But now I think I've got some new stuff for this story, and it should be easier to write this now that _For Once I Don't Have Potatoes on the Brain_ has been finished.

B.T.W.- I recommend that you all go and read _Through the Eyes of an ExAmerican_ by insanelaughtler. It is a wonderful story that I wish everyone on the site would read.

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_America stared at the empty glass vial on the table before him, staring at his deformed reflection in the rounded glass. Just a moment ago it had held a portion of his potent Elixir of Knowledge. He took his hand and lazily scooted it next to small pile of other empty vials, vials that had accumulated throughout the day. Lately, he found the taste of the giving liquids more alluring than usual, and the boost to his mental capacity was also much obliged. Having a few throughout the day wasn't that bad... America knew that, in frequent doses, the elixirs could get very addictive; but he was the hero, and heros never develop addictions, right? And it can't be considered an addiction when the side effect was helpful, in this case the "help" was knowing more ways to defeat China in the near future._

_America's cyan eyes shimmered as they held their gaze, staring unfocused into the bulbous vials on the table. Even in a drugged trance, his mind ticked away as it calculated what do do about the elixirs, and what to do with that poppy-head China. His thoughts still raced through his head as he stood and exited his room, not bothering to hide the empty bottles from any chambermaid that might happen upon them later. America had beat obedience into his cleaning staff, teaching them to never question the bosses actions or else it would be a long fall back to the ground for them..._

_Sombering down the halls of his sprawling home, his suit untidy and his eyes glossed over, America headed for one of his most trusted advisors. He needed advice on what to do with disobedient alliance members._

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America rose from his bed peacefully as rays of sunlight filtered through the windows of his bedroom, casting a low orange glow on the white bed sheets. He stretched his arms out and yawned as the cogs in his brain began to turn, bringing him to full conscienceness. A small smile spread across his face when he realized that he wasn't drenched in sweat, that he didn't feel the urge to vomit, and best of all, that he didn't have another horrible nightmare. Jumping out of bed, America strolled to the wash-basin and rinsed his face. While the feeling of the water vitalized him slightly, it would never compare to a cup of Lithuania's morning coffee, something America could never start the day of without.

America quickly dressed in his normal attire: dress pants, black shoes, a white undershirt, a brown waistcoat, and a red tie, the proper dress for a young industrial nation. America always went with a long-sleeved dress shirt as it covered a peculiar patch of dirty looking skin on his arm, a patch that never rubbed out when he bathed and never faded.

When America strolled into the kitchen he found a serving tray with coffee on one end of the center table, and his friend Lithuania sitting on the other end with the newspaper. He was nose-deep in an article, so deep that his head was not visible from where America was standing. It wasn't until the click of a teaspoon on a coffee cup rang through the silent kitchen that Lithuania looked up from the paper.

"Morning Mister America," he said to the man across the room, "Did you sleep well?"

America replied cheerily, "Yes. No nightmares last night."

A smile formed on Lithuania's face. "That's good! It's time you got a break from that nonsense."

America walked over, steaming cup in hand, and took the chair next to his housekeeper. "Yep. This dream was much mellower. I was still in the same place as before, but instead of beating people... all I did was amble down a fancy hallway mumbling someones name, then it ended and I woke up."

Lithuania's smile dropped slightly and his signature look of concern renewed itself. America always had a way of giving him some form of distress. "Speaking honestly, just because you had one easy night doesn't mean that it's all over. If the problem with your nightmares persists, I suggest that you go and see your friends."

"Like Spain?"

"I said your friends, not enemies. Countries like Britain and Russia, heck maybe even France and Japan."

America reviewed the status of the countries Lithuania presented him. After a moment, he offered a rebuttal. "Those men all sound like they could offer me help, but I'm sure that they're all busy at the moment."

Lithuania's eyebrows lowered slightly. "Please elaborate..."

"Britain and I are still on uneven ground after our little fight a few days ago, Russia's too busy trying to stabilize the Siberian fur trade, France is a little tied up with the _Dreyfus_ affair, and Japan is trying to get a hold on his government at the moment what with the Shoguns being overthrown."

Lithuania was silent for a moment. "So... Are these the only countries that you trust?"

"No."

"No?"

America put on a wide smile, "I trust you. That comment made Lithuania smile, his concern lifting as the mood in the room brightened.

"Thanks." he said happily.

"You're welcome."

Both finished their coffees without trouble, even managing to make light conversation about the state of each others economies. After the morning routine, America decided to read in the living room, leaving Lithuania to do his cleaning regiment. America chose a relatively new book, a book he had already read,written in 1852, by a very persuasive old woman. Titled _Uncle Tom's Cabin,_ the thin novel stirred his feelings back when he was torn over the state of slavery in his land, so torn that he went to war with himself to solve the issue. The book certainly helped him make his final decision, even if he still has torn feelings from time to time...

Just as he was about to finish the third chapter, he was interrupted by Lithuania handing him a letter from his friend Japan. At first he was overjoyed to see that Japan had contacted him, they didn't converse much lately, but his elation fell when he saw that it was a letter requesting his assistance in drafting a trading embargo contract with that new country Germany. America was reluctant to deal with new countries, especially new countries who take their job to seriously, and who look so scary.. But Japan was his friend, and if he needed help then it was America's duty to help him no matter how creepy the opposition was!

* * *

Yay! Finally a new chapter! Ummm... Iv'e got nothing else to say really sooo...

Please review! _Au revior!_

___Tellement désolé-_ So sorry


	6. Chapter 6

France's season 5 character songs come out on the 24th. I can't wait! I heard a preview of them a few days ago and their both awesome. America's songs come out on the same day I think.

* * *

Japan's eyes skimmed over the paper in front of him, skipping the half of the page that was written in German. The shoji screens on the far wall were open, and the warm Tokyo air filtered through the room. The sounds of the busy city also come in, Noise from carts, salesmen peddling wares, and the chatter of conversations beyond his property wall drifted through his yard and up into the sitting room. Placing the paper down on the low table next to the other few that he had, Japan took a moment to rub his eyes. He had reviewed and added things to the documents for two hours, no breaks, and the task was beginning to strain his eyes._  
_

Looking out into his garden, Japan couldn't help but reflect upon what had been happening recently. He thought back a few years ago almost everywhere he went these days, everything reminded him of change. Even now, as he stared at the calm waters of his gardens pond, Japan was brought back to the days when he would walk the streets of Edo and hear other languages besides Japanese being spoken outside trading posts and markets; seeing people of a whiter complection strolling through the alleys and stores of the newly finished port buying strange new things that had never been on his islands before, things like beers and coffees from lands that Japan never knew existed.

The sound of a screen moving in the front room of his home snapped him out of his daydreaming. Focusing his hearing, Japan took note of the sound of a pair of hard soled shoes, the mark of a westerner, on the tatami. Japan only knew one person who wears hard soled shoes, his friend America. Sure enough, the man in question walked into the room with a warm smile on his face.

"Hello Japan." he greeted the quiet nation.

"_O__hayōgozaimasu _Mister America." Japan replied calmly. America set his briefcase down near the table, then took a cushion next to his friend. Ignoring the German documents that Japan had out, America instead made conversation. The last person, Germany, had yet to arrive.

"So how goes it?" America asked his host ardently.

Japan took one last glance at the trade deal papers, then focused on his guest. "I assume you just asked me how my life is going, yes?"

America gave an awkward laugh then answered, "Yes."

"Oh... It goes well. I just recently toured a new Christian church that opened in the neighborhood of Sumida."

"Really? How was it?"

"The tour went fine, mostly. It certainly was a beautiful, stand out structure. There was one problem though."

"And that problem was?"

"The older people in the neighborhood staged a protest outside as I was leaving. They harassed the preacher and called for the reinstatement of the shogunate saying that the samurai would never let an outsider church be built in Japan."

America's heart sank at the news. Why couldn't Japan's people accept change? America's people embraced change, it was what made him such an innovative country. '_Japan'll go nowhere if his citizens don't learn to open up to new things._' America thought to himself. Turning his attention back to his friend, he asked, " So have you had any prior contact with Germany?"

Japan thought back, but couldn't recall meeting him before. "No. The only countries I've had contact with are you, Russia, China, Britain, Holland, and France. I don't remember ever meeting Germany."

"I see..."

"Have you ever met him?"

"Not personally. I've seen him at meetings that I've moderated before, never spoke to him though... He's been really busy lately establishing colonies in Africa. No one's really gotten around to getting to know him yet."

Japan took all this new information in and stored it away for use later. After making sure he remembered everything America had told him, he posed another question. "Should I... try and make friends with him?"

America's eyebrows raised up in surprise. Japan actually wanted his advice! Now was his time to show the man how smart he was! America calmed down and spoke, "Well it's up to you."

Japan grew slightly nervous at having to make such an important decision. "Why should it be up to me? I don't think that I'm ready to make that choice,"

America could see that his friend was uncomfortable with having to make such an important resolution. "Alright," he said, "Let's look at it this way."

Japan refocused on America, who continued, "Do you genuinely want to associate yourself with Germany?"

"Not really. At least not currently."

"So you just want a business relationship?"

"Yes."

"Well there you go! You don't have to make friends with Germany. Just hash out the trading deal, then send him on his merry way."

Japan let out a grateful sigh. "Thank you for the help America. I don't think that i could have made a decision on my own."

"No problem!" America exclaimed. As America went to start a new conversation topic, a knock at Japans front door grabbed both of their attentions.

"Ah, I think that's Germany." Japan said flatly.

"Well," America exasperated as he unpacked his briefcase, "Let's get this done."

For America, it was a very long, very boring meeting. But with his help, the two managed to work out a trade deal. German ships had the right to dock in the ports of Hiroshima and Nagoya and, with proper permits, could stay for one month. Merchant ships would take exports of Kobe Beef and fabrics and bring in imports of beer and salted meats. Japan didn't express his desire for Japanese ships sailing to Germany, which upset the European but made up for it by saying that any German ship that expressed the need for aid whilst in Japanese waters would be immediately assisted by Japanese boats. The two sealed the deal by saying that the contract would last for the next 20 years.

After the meeting, Germany left for his hotel, leaving America and Japan alone again. The two returned to the sitting room and talked for the rest of the evening. Eventually, it became so late that when America tried to go home, Japan insisted that he stay over for the night and leave in the morning. America honestly didn't want to ride in a boat at night time, and graciously accepted Japan's offer.

Unrolling the bedroll that Japan gave him, America couldn't help but be proud with himself for a job well done at the meeting. He made a mental note to moderate more meetings in the future s he slipped under the heavy fabric and felt himself slide into a trance of sleep.

* * *

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